


Training for the heart

by FreakyPseudWriter



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Military, Desk Sex, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mentor/Protégé, Military, Military Training, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Personal Growth, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Sparring, Strangers to Lovers, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakyPseudWriter/pseuds/FreakyPseudWriter
Summary: Since a long time, Rahel dreamed of being part of the military. She studied, worked out and got so far to realize her dreams. Finally, she can call herself a soldier, part of the paramedics unit and will learn the customs in the Konohagakure-base. She lives her dream and when she sets her foot into the base, she thought it couldn't become better.Until she met Captain Uchiha and realize her dreams could turn from one second the the next into a hellish nightmare.





	Training for the heart

**Author's Note:**

> My very first time writing a story for Madara and I had lots of fun with this one. ^^
> 
> This is also a fic for a friend of mine for her 18th birthday. I'm quite proud how it turned out and after a long time, I finally get around posting it. So, enough said. To all of you, a lovely day and hopefully, you will like this story!  
> :D

Joining the military always had been Rahel’s dream. There was no in between, no discussion. The police force was a second choice, not the first. Her parents didn’t understand. She was a small girl, why should she join the military? The explanation of where she wouldn’t actually be participating directly in fight as an emergency paramedic was ignored, just like the description of other jobs besides the questionable career of a soldier.

Still, with the help of her close friends which knew how important her dream job was to her, Rahel fought her way through. And slowly, over the span of months, she managed to convince her parents to let her apply for a job at the Konoha outpost, and when they invited her for a personality test and interview, they tagged along, waiting anxiously for her in the visitor centre of the outpost.

That was the first time Rahel saw Madara Uchiha. Only for a short minute, when the guy showing her around stopped at the training hall, where a group of young soldiers were exercising. A lot of good-looking, half-naked soldiers, all muscles and sweat, trying out a grapple technique and rolling around on the ground, monitored by the darkest and sternest looking man Rahel ever saw in her life. She still remembered how her mouth dried out and how her blue-grey eyes followed him around the hall, like a moth would follow to a flame.

“What’s going on here?” she asked and hoped her fascination with the instructor wasn’t visible. How embarrassing would that be? Still, her ears were suspiciously warmed when her guide halted before the glass wall that parted the hallway from the training hall.

“Oh? That’s the hand-to-hand combat training. No weapons allowed.”

“And who’s the instructor?” A stupid question. Nobody could mistake the dark man for anything else but the instructor; with his great physique, the way how he carried himself, silent yet deadly, with the long black hair falling over his back.

Rahel’s guide shuddered violently. “Captain Uchiha. He’s the second-in-command of this base, right after Commander Senju. When he saw the previous instructor and his training, he instantly removed the man from his position and installed himself as the teacher. As a paramedic, you would have the luck of not have much contact to him.”

 

Rahel’s eyebrows wrinkled on instinct. “Why should I consider myself lucky?” she asked. Absentmindedly, the young woman reached up and tucked a dirty-blond strand of her hair behind her ear, all the while she watched how “Captain” Uchiha interrupted the spar between two of his students and demonstrated how the grappling technique should be done. His poor victim was faster on the ground than Rahel could blink, uselessly struggling in the dark man’s grip. Uchiha looked like he was extremely bored, almost unchallenged in the midst of a training fight. Rahel watched how he turned to the still standing soldier, obviously harshly commenting on the previously done mistakes. The shoulders of the man sunk lower and lower with each word, all the while his expression grew into a mask of distressed defeat.

This time, the guide grimaced. “He’s…” A small pause and the man gestured towards the fight. “He’s… rather strict. Hard, but… _fair_.”

Rahel’s guide obviously didn’t want to tell a lot about Uchiha’s challenging lessons, maybe fearing she wouldn’t want to enter the reigns of the military anymore. With a small, inward sigh the blonde turned away from the interesting man and smiled at her guide. She knew when it was futile to ask more. “Okay. What did you say again about the medical wing of the outpost?”

In the evening, Rahel’s mind swam in the many thing things she saw over the day, but mostly one man was embedded into her thoughts. Captain Uchiha, in his camo pants and black tight t-shirt, dark gloves adorning his fingers, black, heavy boots on his feet and his deep, black eyes glaring holes at everyone around. The second-in-command was the personification of the term ‘darkness’, but Rahel had the distant feeling there was more than meets the eye to the man. Not to talk about the certain heat gathering in her lower stomach. She was so close to release some of the tension, but forbade herself from giving in. This wasn’t right and she barely knew the man! Why was there this attraction from afar, why was there this strange sexual instinct, turning her usual neat and calm demeanor upside-down? Rahel groaned embarrassed into her pillow and turned to her side, ignoring the ache between her legs as much as she could.

 

And now she was here. Proudly, Rahel glanced over the outpost of Konoha, an hour drive outside of the actual city. The building consisted of everything a person could dream of. A small, but well-stocked supermarket, some entertainment for bored soldiers, laundromats, a wide cafeteria for breakfast, lunch and dinner, a library to study and read, seminar rooms to learn and improve, a medical wing with a small, yet well-equipped surgery, a wide outside running track and forests surrounding everything. For the next six months, the Konoha post would be Rahel’s home, after that only fate and her higher-ups would decide where the wind would take her.

A knowing shudder wandered over her back. Travelling around the world… Alone the thought was a little bit scary but seeing the world in all its beauty and ugliness would be marvelous and something Rahel looked definitely forward to when her dreaded education was done. And helping people…

A smile flashed over her features. Yes, helping people who would fight to help even more people was something she definitely looked forward to. The blonde inhaled deeply, then took the first step into the Konoha military post, thinking she was ready for everything they would throw at her.

But truth was, she had no idea and no clue what fate would have in store for her. The little bitch fate was.

Before Rahel had time to admire the clean and neat order of the atrium, she was swallowed by the mass of new recruits waiting inside. Apparently, it was not only the new emergency paramedics being introduced today to the area and training grounds. Snippets of sentences flew over her head as the short woman tried to make her way through the crowd, holding onto her bag like her life depended on it.

“-so amazing-!”

“-we’re gonna do it, aren’t we?”

“-heard about the Senju’s, they reformed-!”

“A close cooperation with the Uchiha’s?”

“-Madara Uchiha is said to be scary as fuck-!”

 

 _Madara Uchiha_. The name resounded in Rahel’s brain, got caught in its nooks and crannies, like a mouse caught by cheese. _Madara Uchiha_. Possibly _the_ Captain Uchiha, instructor, darkness in person and downright sinful? She had tried to forget about him and her fascination with the male, but alone the mentioning of his name and the possible connection was enough for her arousal to spark up.

Angry at herself for being so foolish, her attempts of getting through the crowd became harsher. Rahel tried to force her way, though people apparently reacted harshly when they were knocked out of their conversation by a bag hitting their kneecaps. There was only a tiny bit left, the blonde could see a free spot, just a tiny bit more-!

Maybe, if she hadn’t be that hasty, one of the new recruits wouldn’t take the time to push her when she took a step forward. But Rahel had been hasty and like this, someone shoved her quite rudely out of his way. She felt how her balance was shaking. Together with her bag, the blonde stumbled forward, the pair of glasses she had on her nose nearly slipping away, her hair in a dismay of a ponytail.

Rahel would’ve fallen to the ground. If not for the solid chest she collided with. Her face was pressed against a nicely sculptured upper chest, her upper body snuggly flushed to an impressive set of abs -they twitched slightly at the impact- and her arms somehow coming to a rest around the most muscular waist Rahel could dream of.

“Who are you?”

A low growl, nothing more than a little hiss through gritted teeth. Her stomach plummeted towards her feet as Rahel looked up, the long, very long way to a strong neck, a cleanly shaved jaw, strands of unruly jet-black hair to a pair of black, bottomless eyes, glaring back at her. Her heart followed her stomach with a panicked scream, spiraling downwards and straight through the floor.

Out of all people, Rahel managed to stumble into Madara Uchiha in person. Wide-eyed, the woman tried to think of a valid reason, but her tongue was stuck to her teeth, not able to form anything beyond a little, panicked squeal.

The captain raised one eyebrow, apparently unfazed by the fact she stumbled into him. “I hear no answer,” he said, deadly silent and yet easily able to penetrate through the thick atmosphere, “and I won’t ask again.”

 

Only now Rahel realized to whom she was exactly pressed to. Quickly she scrambled to her own two feet, already knowing her neck and face were colored in an unsightly bright tomato-red. “U-uuhm…” she stuttered, “I’m so sorry, Captain Uchiha, I had no idea-!”

“It’s ‘Sir’.”

“Yes, I have to apologize again, Sir. I was just… The way through the crowd, Captain, I-I mean, Sir, I… I didn’t-!”

“You didn’t…?”

Oh god. His eyes were piercing right through her soul, burning holes into her already small self-esteem. Rahel wanted to melt, right there on the spot and never dare to step into the fierce sight again. But despite her bright red face, despite her shaking knees and her rumbling stomach, the blonde balled her fists and lowered her head, breathing hardly in to control herself. “I-I’m sorry, Sir,” she started and stared intently at his heavy boots, “I wasn’t looking where I was going, therefore, I stumbled into you. I-it won’t happen again, Sir.”

Anxiously she waited. Her heart thumped against her ribcage, trying to escape its tight confines with all its might, just because Madara continued to stare wordlessly at her, not moving and not reacting in the slightest.

Then, slowly on a silent sign, the crowd around the two started to ramble again, chattering about this and that, and not watching the stale situation any longer. After a few more seconds, Rahel dared to look up and meet the Uchiha’s eyes. They were still cold, but the eyebrow had lowered again into its original position. A small development, at least that.

Madara crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving her face. Self-consciously the small woman pushed her glasses upwards. Though when he started to speak in his low, angered voice, her hand froze mid-air, fingers trembling the tiniest bit. “I still haven’t received an answer to my first question. Fine, then I will find out myself.”

Rahel was still trying to remember what exactly Madara’s first question had been when the man started to circle her, a hunter waiting for his prey to fall into his trap. “Arriving today with a heavy bag. Means you’re new, staying the next six months to learn everything that is here to learn about your new job. Not a soldier or anything battle-related. You’re too small, too light, not muscular enough. You would lose the moment you step onto a battlefield. No respect for a higher-up means you don’t follow orders. What means in retro perspective…” Abruptly he reached out and captured the name tag bound to her bag. “Cadet Murphy. You’re on my list.”

 

Another check with his intense eyes. Rahel felt them running down over her face, her arms and torso, covered by a long-sleeved sweatshirt with a V-cut, her jeans-cladded legs and chucks. Internally, she shivered and the damned heat returned to pool right between her legs.

She prayed for a miracle. Because there was no way Madara wouldn’t notice the faint blush flashing over the bridge of her nose and the not-so-secret movements of her thighs, trying to relieve some of the lust growing inside her heated body.

He did. Rahel saw it, in the way how a spark of interest glimmered in the pitch-black of his eyes, how the fraction of a pitiful grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Those little motions let the blonde even blush further and fidget on the spot. How much she would give to melt into the ground…?

When Madara suddenly spoke up, the tiniest hint of amusement in his low voice, Rahel wished she never had pushed her way through the crowd. “Well, Cadet Murphy. Apparently, you have somewhere else to be, measured at your hastiness to escape the situation. For now, I let you leave without a punishment fitting for a part of the military services but be sure that I will closely watch you from now on.” He threw another, bored look at her, before turning around. “Dismissed.”

Was she really? Rahel didn’t feel in the slightest like she was dismissed. Even Madara’s back radiated his cold amusement and discipline, even though his long, black hair falling over his entire back was entirely out of the roster of proper haircuts for such a dangerous occupation. She scoffed weakly, then picked up her bag and went over to the reception, her cheeks still suspiciously red and palms sweaty from the adrenaline. Hopefully the rest of her day would be a little bit less eventful than the start…

 

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After the disastrous first meeting with Madara, Rahel didn’t see her personal nemesis anymore around the base. As a new recruit for the medical forces, she and the other cadets weren’t intermingling with the soldiers. Both parties preferred to stay with themselves whenever there was an opportunity of mixing, for example in the wide cafeteria. Same for their teachers. Talking about the teachers and instructors, only a few of them made the attempt of talking outside of their lessons with the recruits. For example, Commander Hashirama. People could think as the commander of his own base he would be a cold man, used to orders and clear words. However, the reality couldn’t be farther off of any made-up picture Rahel had about her boss.

After the first two weeks, Hashirama sat like usual with the small class of seven paramedic-recruits in the cafeteria, a plate with salad, mashed potatoes, green peas and a nice piece of meat before him. But his food must be cold, since the second he sat down the big and warm commander was cracking jokes and told anecdotes about his own first six months in the military. Rahel listened closely, just like her comrades, enraptured by his style of telling those stories of late-night sneaking into the kitchen to steal some of the dessert of the next day or training their asses off. No one minded the commander of the base sitting with the newest additions. The most the brunet got was a slightly teasing comment or good-natured insult, what he countered with his warm, booming laughter.

Until…

“Hashirama!” Rahel automatically stiffened in her seat when the familiar dark voice erupted in her back. One glance over her shoulder and the woman quickly turned again to her own meal. Madara looked royally pissed, basically fuming in annoyance. “We had a meeting thirty minutes ago!”

Like the big child he was, Hashirama rubbed with a foolish grin the base of his neck. “Oh really? Sorry Mads, I wasn’t even aware…”

If that was even possible, the Uchiha’s hair bristled in badly suppressed fury. “Don’t call me “Mads” in front of the recruits!”

“But it’s my nickname for you! How should I call you then?”

“Captain or Captain Uchiha would be appropriate choices!”

A pout came to life on the commander’s face. “But-!”

 

Madara hissed like a furious cat. Today he wore a long-sleeved shirt in his favorite color black, another pair of camo pants and the omnipresent heavy military boots. He stood a little bit behind Rahel, close enough to hear the groans of the leather gloves when he flexed his fingers in frustration. “No “buts”,” he growled and jerked his head into the direction of the exit, “my office, in five minutes!”

Rahel flinched at the harsh tone and tried to stuff her face with more mashed potatoes. Everything, just not to look up and meet the menacing black eyes again, seeing recognition light up in them and no comments about her behavior. In the back of her head, she noticed Hashirama packing his plate together, all the while mumbling under his breath about party-poopers and how Madara must go into the basement for a little chuckle. Her top priority right now was praying to the sky Madara wouldn’t notice her.

But luck wasn’t on her side.

Something must’ve caught his attention, because suddenly Madara directed his words at Rahel, who nearly choked on the next spoon of green peas. “Aah, Cadet Murphy. Not busy stumbling into other people today.”

That was unfair. Simply and utterly unfair. Cautiously Rahel let the spoon drop to the plate again, knowing and feeling all the stares around the table were directed at her or at the dark Uchiha. “No, Sir,” she mumbled and stared intently at the table.

“Still no manners, I see. Stand up, Cadet.”

Rahel swallowed the big lump of frustration in her throat. “Yes, Sir.” Her chair seemed to streak unbearably loud over the PVC of the cafeteria and when the blonde finally stood, her knees were weak, shaking almost under the intent stare of Captain Uchiha, who smirked knowingly.

“Attention Cadet. Or aren’t they teaching a proper stance anymore in the paramedics-unit?”

_Come on, stop the tears. You can do it._

Straightening herself, Rahel raised her head. Her blonde hair was bound together in a loose bun, tickling the base of her neck. Glasses sat on the tip of her nose and she quickly pushed them back into place, all the while trying to meet and hold the black eyes which seemed to stare yet again another hole into her soul. Suddenly her Cadet-uniform, consisting of a loose camo pants, a grey t-shirt with a small emblem right above her heart wasn’t enough to protect her anymore. Strange. Only minutes ago, she felt so safe.

 

Madara checked her body out and _not_ in a sexual way. “At least you don’t seem that weak anymore. Good to see my suggestions to include strength-training for the paramedics were put to good use.”

So, Madara was responsible for the surprise-introduction of training into their already busy schedules. Rahel felt like crying out in despair. Did he really run to Hashirama, gossiping like a child about the mean, little cadet who run into him and that the commander should pretty please include some training especially for her soft body curves into their program?

Alright, despite his dark and dangerous sexiness, Madara was a huge asshole. No questions asked and no doubts.

But instead of giving in, Rahel stood her ground, only her eyes burned from the suppressed tears. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

_Three shits in your head, Sir._

“And you learned some rules and order. Count me impressed.” Circling the smaller woman, Madara mused silently about a joke only he knew about. “That doesn’t mean I won’t watch you anymore. Even though I’m a very busy man, I always have time to look out for some troublemakers around my base.”

“Your base, Sir?” Rahel said and already regretted her words before Madara’s expression darkened.

Suddenly, the captain jumped right into her face. A small squeak escaped the blonde, but thankfully it was swallowed by the _threats_ he spat out. “Yes, it is _my_ base, Cadet Murphy. Do you want to challenge me? Do you think you could take me on?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“But it sounded for me like that.”

“I a-apologize if my words were mis-misleading, Sir.”

“Right.” Another smirk crossed Madara’s attractive features. Damn him, with the smug arrogance he was even more attractive than before! “Because you’re way below me. The day you manage to top me, I should give up on my position as the Captain. But you would like that, huh?”

 

_Absolutely. I would celebrate it like a New-Year’s Party._

“Absolutely not, Sir.” Madara was so close. Rahel could basically feel his breath fanning over her face, cooling the flushed cheeks with every deep breath he took. It was something incredibly arousing in his stance, somehow animalistic. A carnivore looming over his meal, playing around and not quite finishing the job, having too much fun toying with her instead of leaving her alone. At the thought an incredible shudder wandered over her back, zapping right into her lower parts and between her legs.

Madara’s skill to piss Rahel off and at the same time arouse her was simply unbelievable.

Before he could question her further, thankfully Hashirama returned, announcing himself with a concerned laugh. “Mads, don’t tell me you’re picking on the cadets again!”

Instantly, Rahel’s personal pain in the neck swiveled around, growling at the hated nickname.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but the blonde thought the commander winked playfully at her when he was chased out of the cafeteria by his second-in-command.

Only when the doors slammed close behind the two most powerful men around, the blonde dared to relax her body a bit, sighing loudly before sitting carefully down again. Her fingers still shook when she tried to grip onto her spoon.

Then there was suddenly a pair of small and slender hands in her vision, rapping her knuckles gently on the surface of the table. As Rahel looked up, she was meet with the most gorgeous redhead she had ever seen. Her long and smooth strands were slung in two buns, sitting on each side of her head, her black eyes sparkled in badly hidden mischief and the uniform clung to her lithe and elegant form like a second skin. Living in a wide dorm room, Rahel naturally took notice of Mito Uzumaki, but never would’ve believed someone like the redhead would talk to someone like… _her_.

“Must be harsh with Madara picking on you.” Mito’s against the rules ruby-red colored lips curled into a knowing smile. “How do you deserve such treatment?”

Shakily, Rahel breathed in and released the breath right after before even attempting to answer. “I… Uhm… Kind of stumbled into him?”

Mito cocked her head, then slid her chair closer to Rahel’s. “Tell me about it.”

 

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The days flew by and with someone Rahel could share her worries with they were even enjoyable. Mito was extremely intelligent, passionate about the job and a little bit older than her, but that wasn’t too hard. When the redhead got to know the blonde just turned 18 three days before she entered the military, Rahel had the pleasure of seeing Mito’s shocked expression. Though she recovered quickly from the revelation, claiming they had to steal a drink out of the cafeteria to celebrate a little bit.

On top of her steadfast attitude, Mito was a reliable source of gossips and hard facts about their teachers, instructors and higher-ups. Like that Rahel got to know a lot of things about her nemesis. For example, that he was also still extremely young for a Captain, only 24, just like Hashirama, who became at the same age the commander. Or that he already had seen the world, completed a lot of missions successfully and had also some medals under his belt. Rahel nearly fell into the trap and started to think maybe Madara wasn’t that much of a bad guy, but then, right on a Monday, he strutted into the classroom of the future paramedics, just as disgruntled and dark as always.

“Attention!” he barked. All recruits hastily moved out of their chairs, saluting to the captain, who came to a halt right in front of the first row, his hands joined in his smaller back. Rahel was one of the first to move, seeing the captain scanning the seats and when the intense eyes locked with hers, she had the bad, sinking feeling Madara had planned this.

_Damn._

“Today’s lesson is cancelled.” he grunted. The captain waited, maybe hoping for a little bit of protest, then continued, obviously smitten with his own idea. “From now on, everyday there will be a segment of combat-training for the paramedic-class. The commander,” Rahel just knew Madara would start to spit lies, “noticed the split between the soldiers and the paramedics. To form more bonds between the recruits, there will be from now on regular training sessions. Every recruit has to participate, only a medically statement will be _considered_ as an excuse to not take part in those lessons.”

 

Now Madara stared straight at Rahel. Cold fear struck her insides, coiling her stomach into a tight ball. No. No, he wouldn’t… He was a captain, she was merely a cadet, why did he pick so much on her? Why did he go to such lengths?

Without another word, but with the high and mighty attitude of someone who knew he held all the strings, Madara waved over his shoulder, walking out of the room. The cold premonition of dread dawned upon the small woman as she slowly followed the rest of her classmates, only Mito seemed to notice she wasn’t exactly fine. The redhead fell back, worry shining out of her eyes.

“Everything’s alright, sweetie?”

Rahel nodded. A blatant lie. Her feet were as heavy as stones, an invisible weight was shoved on her shoulders and clouds of worry and blank fear brewed in her head. Nothing was alright. She just knew Madara would pick on her and the still, so damn annoying attraction to the man was present, taunting her thoughts with little snippets of his muscular upper back, cladded yet again into a tightly fitted sweat-shirt. From her point of view, Rahel could see how the shoulder blades almost cut through the fabric with every movement Madara made. Back muscles rolled from side to side, straining and relaxing with each step.

Madara almost sped through the outpost and too soon to Rahel’s taste, they reached the same trainings halls where the woman spotted the instructor for the very first time. With a smirk Madara opened the heavy doors like they weighed nothing, holding them open for the whole class to walk through. To her horror, Rahel found herself at the end of the line. Even though she avoided horror movies as much as she could, one essential truth the blonde learned: don’t be the last one to walk in a group. That unfortunate soul was the first one to die.

Her breath ragged through her lungs as she passed by Madara. And really, he whispered something to her, something for her and her ears alone.

“Not that cocky anymore, huh, Cadet Murphy?”

Rahel had never been cocky, just a bit clumsy in his proximity. Just when she wanted to look into his face and ask what he meant, she realized the instructor was only waiting for a chance to dig her imaginary hole deeper. So, Rahel sealed her lips shut and only shook her head. A silent answer for a weak and unfair question. And the only thing she actually could do.

 

With a lowered head, she walked over the soft mattresses which covered the wood panels in the middle of the wide hall and absentmindedly toed her shoes off before coming to a halt beside Mito, who waited with crossed arms for her. The smell of sweat, old socks and rubber assaulted Rahel’s nose and she tried not to make a grimace, but then Madara pushed himself past her into the middle of the ring the cadets automatically formed. The short lowering of her mouth was just that: an instinct and fearful reaction of what was about to come.

“The first lesson will be in private,” Madara started, the smirk still visible, “to see where you all stand. Form pairs. Not _you_ ,” Rahel froze in the moment she turned to Mito, “you will train with me. Some cadets need very _close_ attention.”

He wanted to shame her in front of the whole class. Rahel realized that as soon as Madara’s smirk widened when he saw how shocked she was, her mouth gaping and eyes wide. The worst was, the small female had no chance whatsoever to protest. This was the military. This was her job. To obey any order from her higher-ups, no matter how stupid, destructive and absolutely shaming they should be.

“It’s ok,” Rahel mumbled to Mito, who tried to stop her from walking to her early demise, “I think I will manage.”

_Not at all. I’m so dead._

Head hanging low, she stumbled over to the tall man and tried to follow his instructions as closely as possible but the dead murmur in her ears was too mighty. Forcing the tears of frustration and fear back felt like Rahel had to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders. An impossible task, however somehow, she was making it work, fighting back against her own feelings while the very source stood right beside her, just half a meter apart.

 

“We’re starting low today,” Madara said, “a basic guard, for beginner’s. A good defense is a basic skill in all fighting styles. Guarding yourself is the most important thing you can do, even though some instructors say a fierce attack is just as good as a good defense. Bullshit, I say. I won’t lie, only defending yourself won’t do anything but tiring you out. But before you start doing spars or fighting with my already trained recruits, we’re going to work at your defensive moves until you will dream of them.”

_Nightmares, serious nightmares._

Suddenly Madara placed his hand on Rahel’s shoulder. He was warm, almost unbearable hot, and even with his leather gloves, the fingers dipped into her flesh. A warning, reminder and threat at once. A violent shudder wrecked through her body and as an answer, Madara’s hand tightened only the tiniest bit.

His low voice easily carried itself through the wide hall. He didn’t even need to raise it, the recruits automatically turned their eyes to him when he started to explain. “We’re starting with an easy guard. Most enemies will go for your body middle or face.” Without warning, Madara spun Rahel around. An enormous fist went with lightning speed for her stomach. Quickly she dodged, wiggling out of his tight grip and not even realizing she actually escaped the man until he raised one of his eyebrows, his empty hand flexing slightly.

“Again, cadet,” he growled, “or your punishment will be to clean all the toilets around the outpost.”

Rahel gulped. Being busy until far after midnight with cleaning the shit stains off porcelain or being the personal punching bag of Captain “Asshole” Uchiha? If she had the freedom to choose, the woman would always go with the first option. However, seeing Madara’s icy expression and the murderous glint in his eyes let Rahel again step closer to him, mumbling a weak “Yes, Sir.”

 

The whispers in her back acted up. Again, Rahel fought her tears and really, a single one escaped her tight controls and rolled down her cheek. Madara would comment loudly on this for sure, saying she wasn’t fit for the military service, a crybaby, she should drop out immediately, he didn’t want an easily upset woman in his base…

Biting her lower lip, Rahel stepped again into his range. But she kept her face down, not wanting him to see immediately how much he frustrated her with his constant teasing.

Not that Madara would let that behavior slide. “Eyes up, Cadet Murphy,” he said as soon as Rahel was close enough to listen, “or I will extend the training session until midnight.” Standing relaxed on the mattress, barefooted, adjusting his leather gloves and strands covering the left side of his face, the captain was the king of the hall and Rahel wasn’t able to disobey his orders.

_Fine._

Abruptly the blonde looked straight at the man, despite her snivels and teary-eyed appearance, to show him that she wouldn’t give in to his comments. Another tear followed the first and with a sharp gesture the woman wiped her face dry. She hated herself for the useless tears, hated that they fell so easily, hated that they came when she didn’t need them at all. A comment would come any second. Every moment, Madara would say something about crybabies or anything else to insult her further, Rahel was sure.

To her mild surprise, nothing happened. The blonde watched how Madara’s face shortly slackened at the sight of the thin streaks of tears running down her rounded cheeks. Then, like a curtain was drawn close, his mask fell back into place. He gestured her over, his mouth sealed and expression unreadable, not saying anything.

_I surely thought he would…_

One last time, Rahel quickly wiped with the sleeve of her sweat-shirt over her eyes, where contact lenses took the place of her glasses, then smiled slightly at the captain. When he nodded back, her heart thumped a little and the woman took a lot of effort of not reaching upwards and placing a hand over her suddenly jumping organ.

 

The thankfulness didn’t last forever. During the two hours they spent with the captain, Madara apparently made the decision of completely overwriting the one nice thing he did for her. First, he constantly criticized Rahel’s fighting stance, her balance, the way of holding her hands, her guard… Then, after he went through the complete ordeal of humiliating her in front of the other recruits with words alone, the training spars begun. Without a hint of mercy Madara hunted her over the mattress he chose as his stage. Rahel couldn’t help herself but notice his casual elegance, how Madara easily broke through her pitiful attempts at guarding herself without actually hurting her in the process. He was a god and only his comrades knew how he looked like moving over a real battlefield, effortlessly and without breaking into a sweat. The last bits of her gratefulness were erased when Madara called Rahel out, saying her guard was “shittier than Hashirama’s” and told her to stay behind and wipe the mattresses clean.

To say her hate for the edgy man was rising beyond hell’s level was putting it nicely. Rahel brewed in her own rage and a strange, unwelcomed lust while she filled a bucket with piping hot water. The heat creeped in the form of steam into her fingers and mumbling to herself, she walked awkwardly back into the training hall.

“Only mid-day,” she growled and tried to jerk the door open, “and I’m already this pissed-off. Honestly, what does he want to achieve in making me this angry? And his high and mighty attitude!” Agitated, Rahel finally kicked the door open. “Bullshit. He’s just pissed because I dared to stumble into his perfect chest and dirty his perfect appearance to impress his _perfect_ little recruits, perfectly obedient little soldiers, fitted for battle and not a little crybaby who can’t even run a full lap around the hall without breaking into a sweat-!”

While rambling to herself, Rahel started to drip a single sponge into the hot water. The heat licked at her fingers, nearly burning her skin, but she stood her ground and waited the second until the sponge was properly soaked, only then she retreated. Wringing the sponge out, the young woman shook her head and fell to her knees, right in front of the first used and really a bit dirty rubbery mattress.

 

“Fine,” she gritted her teeth as she started to clean some footprints off the material, “come on, you stupid prick! Bring it on!”

“I plan to do so.”

For the second time today, Rahel squeaked and hastily swiveled around, only to face an obviously amused Madara looming over her. Somehow, the position was doing wonders for her libido. Blood pulsed through her veins, screaming basically to surrender to the man and throw herself into his arms. He had crossed his arms over his wide chest and the still far too tight shirt seemed to groan with every movement, the seams almost giving way to the sheer muscles underneath the covering fabric. Slowly Rahel’s eyes wandered lower and she gulped dryly. His abs were clearly visible and like they wanted her attention, they twitched. It was never good to see that special motion, never. His pants were as obtrusive as ever, but Rahel would bet all her money on it that Madara never skipped leg day. There was no way a man like the captain would be as thoughtless to forget to train his legs until they were strong enough to carry him through hail and storm.

“Attention, Cadet Murphy!”

By now the order was engraved into her body. Instinctively, Rahel jumped up and straightened, knowing the Uchiha’s eyes were travelling down her form just like she checked him out. Not quite as sexually, though.

For eternities, her captain stared right through her. Anxiously, Rahel waited, holding her breath and flexing her hands to relax herself. It was useless. The tension ate her nerves away and not able to stand the silence any longer, she broke out, just when Madara had cocked his head to the side.

“What can I do to make this treatment stop?”

“…” Madara ignored her, keeping on his circles around the smaller woman. His bare feet made almost no sound on the soft underground, only the shuffles of his clothes betrayed his movements.

_Right. Acting high and mighty, the stupid…_

“What can I do to make this treatment stop, Sir?” Rahel asked again.

His voice resounded in her back, echoing slightly in the empty hall. “What treatment?”

“E-Excuse me, Sir. Maybe I-I misinterpreted some of your a-actions as acts to se-set me up.”

“Nearly, but not quite, Cadet.”

“Huh?”

Madara closed the circle. Standing again right in front of Rahel, he raised only one eyebrow and the woman quickly corrected herself. “I mean: Excuse me, Sir?”

A sharp nod and a warm wave of sudden affection rolled over her mind. For once Rahel managed to gain at least a little bit of praise from the strict man. It felt like a glorious victory. Madara sighed lowly, one of his first emotional outbursts since she knew him. “As the second-in-command, I pick together with Hashirama the applicants for the six months of learning. Seeing your file, I noticed your high scores in the medical department and social empathy in the interview, but the scores you gained during the physical exercise were, to put it mildly, below average.” Absentmindedly, the male started to tug at the single fingers of his right glove, loosening the material only to slip again inside. “I wanted to reject you straight away, but Hashirama convinced me to give you a chance. Granted, at the first day you didn’t make the best impression on me,” he smirked knowingly, “though after hearing about your great improvements over the first three weeks and additionally listening to Hashirama’s praise he sing-songs all the time, I’m willing to give you the chance to improve.”

Rahel coughed, interrupting the second-in-command gently. “So… You aren’t picking on me, Sir?”

Madara snorted loudly. “Do I look like I have to pick on children barely out of school?”

Something, a small bubble of hope deep inside her, burst into little shambled dreams. There it went, the last bits of her foolish hopes. Madara, which Rahel found from the very first moment she set her eyes on him interesting, dark and sexy, looked at her and only saw a child, still green behind the ears, and not able to improve on her own.

 

Forcing a smile on her face, the blonde kept the mask in place, desperately trying to not let the small smile slip away. “I understand, Sir. I must yet again apologize for my assumption.”

“Hmpf.” Nevertheless, Madara seemed a little bit less disgruntled than usual. “Anyway. The conclusion to add combat-training into the schedule of the paramedics isn’t entirely based on your inability to perform. It’s one of many reasons. In the unlikely case a paramedic is caught in a dangerous situation, this training will come in handy. And general fitness is either way a requirement to be in the military in the first place. But seeing you today, and seeing what has to be done to get you to a higher level convinced me to take you as my personal apprentice.”

Personal apprentice? Rahel blinked in confusion. Did Madara really just say what the blonde believed he said? She, the small, a bit chubby, young woman as the personal apprentice of the overly strict and mean second-in-command?

She shook her head to get rid of at least some of the daze. “What do you mean, Sir? What would that position include?”

Madara snorted again. “Don’t sound so hopeful. Mostly I will make sure your physical condition will be top-notch, train you in different fighting styles and make you run laps around the outpost. There will be no trophy-state for you, Cadet Murphy. Being my personal apprentice isn’t a medal to wear proudly around. It’s a responsibility you have to step up to, understood?”

“Understood.”

Madara’s eyes squinted. “I don’t think you understand, Cadet. But I will take your word. From today on, every evening you will come here, exactly on 2000. Additional training in combat, that will be to your liking, right?”

 

Rahel didn’t know what to say. So many things happened too suddenly. Madara wasn’t disliking her personally. He saw her as a child, not as a woman. He wanted to train her personally, to allow her become a better paramedic. All in all, a very positive outcome of a less than mediocre day. And still… The disappointment of being seen as nothing more than a student and not as someone desirable gnawed more at her insides than the female wanted to admit. After some more moments, Rahel realized she should thank the man for his generosity. After all, he sacrificed his free time to teach - or torment her - further. At attention, the small woman saluted to her second-in-command, straightening her body out of instinct when he nodded approvingly.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said weakly, her voice hoarse out of gratitude.

“No problem, Cadet. Now get back to cleaning! At the end, I want to be able to eat off of the mattress’, nothing less!”

With a newfound swing in her movements, Rahel went back to cleaning the dirt of the others, all the while the feared Captain Uchiha watched her back, before he rubbed almost angrily over his face, where a little, very faint blush creeped over the bridge of his nose.

 

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At the start, Rahel regretted her carelessly uttered words. Madara was a slave driver straight out of hell, nothing less. Nothing was beneath him, not even constant harassment while she was trying to desperately catch her breath, lying on the ground and panting after a hellish circle training. He pushed her to her borders and further, made sure she was never well-rested and always on edge. One time, Madara actually creeped into the dorm room of the paramedics, only to drag her out, still in her pajama and hunt her through a self-constructed parkour in the middle of the forest.

After every training session, Rahel’s muscles hurt with every motion. She would only groan her pain out, and Mito and the other paramedics tried their best to soothe her aching muscles a little bit to make at least resting bearable. During the day, Rahel would learn and train with them, in the evening and lasting into the night, Madara would push her to her limits. Slowly, but surely, she grew accustomed to the harsh training. Her legs became stronger, her arms too, her whole body was suddenly flexible and still lithe. A round around the outpost of Konoha wasn’t as tiring as before, also two or three rounds quickly weren’t problems anymore. Rahel lasted longer, became durable, bit her way through hard tasks and passed with flying colors easy ones.

While they trained, Rahel was able to look behind the cold façade Madara Uchiha portrayed to the world. He was cold, yes, but also surprisingly thoughtful. Madara always made sure there was water at hand while they trained, and when he noticed that Rahel really reached the utmost limit of her current abilities, he would give the female a break, sitting down beside her gasping form and talk silently about his times in the military. On very special occasions, Madara would do Rahel’s task alongside the woman, running together through the forest and urging her forward.

 

With the passing time, Rahel realized how close she got to the usually unreachable captain. He wasn’t just her instructor. He wasn’t just someone to look up to, an idol on a stage. Madara was first and foremost human, painfully human in the face of war he faced on a daily base if he wasn’t at the outpost and trained small paramedics.

One evening, the sun had sunken behind the large trees, Rahel sat, still weakly panting after an intense parkour through the forest on a bench, leaning forward and staring at Madara who finished a set of push-ups. And his sweat glistening body was a sight for sore eyes. Like magnets Rahel’s eyes were drawn to his flawless figure, the way how the muscles in his arms contracted to move Madara up and down, the rising and lowering of his perfectly shaped ass… The damn attraction hadn’t vanished. No, in fact, the fascination with this complicated man only grew further and stronger. By now, Rahel felt, every time she heard his voice butterflies in her stomach, a whole swarm of damned insects, and when she saw him, her blood practically boiled with suppressed lust and affection.

_I’m so done. So wonderfully, hellishly done._

The attraction grew into a little crush, if not into real love. Rahel continued to stare blankly ahead, not aware the object of her thoughts finished his set, stood up, brushed some non-existent dirt off his body, and walked over to grab a towel right beside her. His arm brushed her shoulder, the slightest of all possible touches. Enough to push Rahel out of her cloud castles.

Faced suddenly with Madara’s impressive physique, the greatest blush of her life crawled over Rahel’s features. Flustered and embarrassed at her own stupidity, the woman flinched backwards, out of the overbearing presence of the second-in-command. Madara watched her antics with an unreadable expression. Then, like the sunrise, an arrogant smirk flashed over his mouth, pulling the right corner of his mouth slightly higher than the left.

“What’s wrong, Cadet?” If she didn’t know better, Rahel would say Madara moved the towel in teasing, little circles over his chest and her traitorous eyes were fixated on the motion. “See something you like?”

 

Another thing which changed over the time. Madara actually was able to make jokes but chose mostly not to. Only Hashirama got to see this side of him, beside the blonde woman. And this had to be one of his jokes, nothing else.

A weak laugh dropped from her lips and she shook her head. “Really, captain? Really? Such a cheap attempt at fishing for compliments.”

Madara scowled. “I don’t need to fish for compliments. I get a lot of compliments without fishing for them.”

“I’m sure of that.”

“Why do you sound like you don’t believe me, Cadet Murphy?”

“That’s alone your interpretation, Sir.” Rahel was good at masking her feelings. Though her heart pounded awfully loud in her ears, nearly freeing itself out of her ribcage. Thundering, quaking, shaking the woman until she tried to forcefully cut the attraction with the most ridiculous question she could think of.

“Sir? Can I ask you something?”

Madara nodded. Rahel watched how he reached over to one of two water bottles. His for once free hands unscrewed the bottle and when his lips gingerly laid around the opening to drink, the blonde had to look away, yet another blush painting the bridge of her nose.

She breathed deeply in, hoping to calm herself. “Why did you go to the military?”

More silence. Madara kept on drinking, his head thrown back and hair tied into a ponytail fell over his shoulder. It should be forbidden for him to wear a ponytail. It showed too much of his neck.

“No particular reason,” he said finally, “Hashirama went and I… I went too.”

“There must be something deeper than that.”

“Indeed.”

Rahel chuckled quietly. “Come on, Sir,” she said, “there must be more to that.”

The original point of this ask-question-game was to distract herself from the dreamy sight of Madara’s body. However, as he slid closer on the bench and his muscular thigh brushed against hers, Rahel found her mind again in a daze of lust and warm affection for the cold man.

 

Madara’s smirk didn’t lose any of his arrogance. “Of course, there’s more to it. But before I consider your question as a valid reason to reveal my intentions, you should answer me. Why so keen on joining the military, Cadet Murphy?”

An easy question. Her parents had uttered the same so many weeks ago, over and over, like Rahel was deaf or like they spoke different languages. So it was no surprise for the blonde that her voice wasn’t wavering when she answered. “I know. I could’ve gone to a hospital. There’s no need to go to such lengths to join the military, no need to go onto a battlefield, considering I despise violence and murder. But… it’s challenging. And I know I can do this job, with the right preparation and the right mindset. I want to do my best at a challenging job and be good at it. Besides,” she turned to Madara, gifting the man with a wide smile, “I help people… to help more people. If that makes sense. And I will see a lot of countries, foreign landscapes, basically the world.”

When Rahel opened her eyes again, Madara covered the side of his face with the half-empty water bottle. “A good reason,” he grumbled.

“Just as good as any other,” she said.

“Hm.”

The sun sank lower, behind the crowns of the trees. A light breeze ruffled through the plants and Rahel grabbed her earlier discarded jacket, slinging the fleece material around her form. Just when the blonde was about to stand up and suggest to move inside, Madara sighed out and leaned backwards. “I want peace.”

Rahel froze. Such a simple answer, such heavy impact. _Peace_. And nothing less was Madara’s reason to join the military?

The man tried to wipe a few strands of his unruly hair back, but they fell back into place, so he gave up. “My parents… More like my father, wasn’t peaceful at all. Mother was compliant to his needs, always giving in, always offering herself as an outlet for his frustrations. He was a soldier,” he explained after a glance at Rahel’s obvious confusion, “Had PTSD. A lot of medals and awards, but instead of leaving the battlefield behind, he brought it home. To his family.”

 

She didn’t know what to say. Her mind circled around a smaller Madara, his hair just as wild as always, but his usually confident expression replaced by fear and horror. His own father, the danger no child should have to face.

“If there had been no war,” Madara continued, “he wouldn’t have had PTSD. No pain for my mother, no pain for my younger brothers. When Hashirama, my only friend who knows about that, decided to go to the military, I couldn’t let him go without me. Without any protection from the people who won’t listen to his words. Those are my reasons to join the military. To protect this stupid idiot from doing something dumb and to prevent other families from what I had to go through.”

Rahel nodded weakly. “It was a chance.”

“A chance… Yes, a chance indeed.”

Together they watched the sun go down. None of them mentioned their thighs touching the whole time, too casual to be mentioned, too big to be left in the room. Rahel felt even that small pressure of Madara’s leg hours later, when she laid in her bed and listened to Mito’s soft snoring.

 

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After the basic condition training, the real hand-to-hand combat training started. Sure, Madara still held the lessons with the paramedics, but private training with the cold Uchiha was something entirely different. Mostly, it was more intense. In class, Rahel sometimes had time to breathe, to relax in the midst of her colleagues and friends, while Madara walked around and observed the pairs sparring. In private though, there was no such time. In private, Madara’s entire being was fixated on her mistakes, on her reaction time, on her grabs and throws, the position of her hips and her hands. Rahel almost wished for the old times of condition training back.

Almost. Because Madara was personally training with her. Training spars and grappling techniques, kicking punching bags together, adjusting her training gloves with gentle fingers and coming so close Rahel could identify the single components of his typical scent. Weapon’s oil, heavy and thick, something oddly fresh, maybe lemongrass and some kind of manly-smelling shampoo, making Rahel’s knees weak on a regular base.

The best of both worlds. Heaven and hell, all pressed in two hours every evening, when everyone else was resting, reminiscing over the day or preparing for the occasional test coming up.

Two months went by like that. Until one evening, Rahel went inside the training hall, dropped her small bag to the side and started to stretch and warm-up. Apparently Madara had some kind of meeting going on. Ten minutes past their usual meeting time, the man strutted in and his face displayed clearly how pissed he was. He didn’t even change into his training gear. Still in a pair of black jeans, a red button-up shirt and a black tie around his neck, Madara stepped onto the mattress.

Rahel looked up from her perfect split. Had Madara always seem so big and unmoving, how he stood in front of her, looming and brooding? “Sir…”

There was no better word. He snapped at the blonde. “What?”

Wordlessly, but with a trembling hand, Rahel pointed at his shoes.

Snarling just as wordlessly, Madara turned around, stomped to the farthest corner of the soft underground and toed his elegant shoes off, before storming back. One hand raised to pull harshly at the tie, the other tried to loosen the tight knot.

 

“Guards up!” Madara growled, all the while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Today is free sparring. I want to see how far you’ve come.”

There was no arguing with him. Despite the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach, Rahel stood up and breathed out, relaxing consciously every muscle in her body. Only afterwards, she raised her hands to a casual guard in front of her face and body. Her feet were light, balance in the middle of her body, like Madara showed her. Rahel’s senses sharpened. Not only her eyes, also her ears and nose grew with the slowly rising anticipation. The woman watched how her opponent finished the last bits of his preparation, how the bigger and taller man bound his ponytail backwards, how he lowered his hands to his side in an attempt to appear defenseless.

_Fuck off. I know you try to lure me into attacking first._

Rahel wasn’t that stupid. Attacking first would mean giving her guard up. The only thing she did to answer his casual stance was tightening her own defense, trying to read Madara before he would read her.

“Good.” The black-haired man cocked his head to the side. Still, no smirk. “But you can’t keep your guard up all the time. Sometimes you have to attack.”

Rahel didn’t answer. Just another attempt of throwing her off her feet. Despite popular belief, Madara wasn’t beneath cheap tactics to win. For him, it was all about winning. Gritting her teeth, she tugged her shoulders higher, waiting and expecting.

Then he wasn’t there. In a matter of seconds, Madara sped over. Swirling around, his left leg came up for a roundhouse kick to her ribs. Rahel dodged, jumped backwards and out of reach. Madara came after the woman, face grim and mouth frozen in a soundless snarl. A punch to her head and Rahel blocked. Her arm hurt from the force. Another punch, the other side and this time, it connected.

A hiss dropped from her lips. She always forgot how strong he was, how fierce Madara’s attacks were. An attack to drive him back was needed. They danced around each other, watching, reading, hoping for an opening. Rahel reacted first. She tried to jab his shoulder. Madara dodged easily, just like she expected. Her high kick was already there, aiming at his face. But Madara wasn’t one to be fooled. His guard was perfect. Her teeth hurt from her own force when the shockwave run through her body, when her foreleg hit his forearms.

 

“Nice,” he snarled, “but not good enough.”

Suddenly the blonde was being pushed back. Desperately she tried to free herself, but then Madara’s hands were gripping her raised ankle. His fingers were death traps, his palms as unbreakable as iron itself. Rahel’s world flipped over, tumbled and staggered. Her mind was working though, just like her body. Like she never intended to do anything else, the woman curled herself into a ball and rolled away when Madara pushed her off. The rough material squeaked against her heels as she dug them into the mattress. In a kneel, Rahel came to a halt, facing Madara once again.

“I could’ve killed you there,” her instructor smirked, “Put your guard up.”

Wordlessly the woman nodded. Her thoughts were still racing around from the wild exchange. Maybe it was due to his bad mood, but this spar was more intense than usual. A meeting went wrong? Not the way he wanted? And still, even in this feral display of his power, Rahel couldn’t help herself but to become aroused. Seeing Madara with this wild expression on his face, the muscles working under the thin cotton, his hands on her naked skin… Sweat poured into Rahel’s eyes and she blinked hectically. Had it always been this warm in here? And had her underwear been this damp already before their fight? She slowly stood up, making sure nothing overly hurt from their exchange. No, everything was fine. Only her foreleg was a little bit numb from the earlier impact, but nothing serious.

They went back to circling each other, their naked feet dragging over the soft mattress. Madara was again the first one to attack. Recklessly he charged at her. This time, Rahel was ready. A rapid combination to her guard. Each hit thundered against her arms and she nearly bit her tongue. But Rahel put up with it, waited like a prey. And her chance was coming. Quickly she dodged the following hit, ducked underneath and was suddenly behind his own defense.

No second chance. Before Madara could jump away, Rahel punched his unprotected stomach with all the strength she could muster. He gasped, his hot breath crashing against her neck as he doubled over. Another hit, another crash of hot, sensual air on her shoulder.

_Not enough. Quick, quick._

 

Like Madara showed her, Rahel dug her hip into his body. One arm slithered around his broad shoulder, the other grabbed onto the opposite wrist. Turning with him and using the momentum, Rahel used all of her small body to throw the taller man over her hip. The surprise in Madara’s face as he felt his balance shifting was worth diamonds, just like the reassuring ‘smack’ when his full body hit the ground. High on adrenaline, Rahel threw herself on her victim, pinning him to the ground. Her weight was nothing, not suited to hold a stronger opponent to the ground, so the blonde used a lockdown Madara showed her. Like snakes, her legs slithered around his outstretched arm, crossing at her ankles when they came to a stop at his shoulder. Her small hands grabbed the thick wrist, pressing the appendage into her chest even while the sweet feeling of victory rose in inside her mind.

“That’s one kill for me,” she said, “I got you.” Heavy pants disturbed Rahel’s breathing. A short spar, yes, but also an intense one.

Madara’s body vibrated. A low, menacing growl went through him, transferring over to Rahel. Suddenly, her world spun around. On one second, she stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, the warm muscles in her palm flexing, the next, everything blurred together and Rahel found herself pressed to the ground, a grimly smirking Madara looming over her. Both of his arms free, both of them at both sides of her head, rimming her and making an escape impossible.

“Or did I get you?” he asked. The white of his teeth blinked in the dim light. “Never break your grip, no matter what happens. Your life could depend on it. Your reaction to the opening in my defense was good though.”

Rahel inhaled, the air filled with sweat, lust and _Madara_. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” she whispered.

Fire came to life in his black eyes, making them shine red under the protection of his shadow. The words weren’t intended as a flirt, but they came out as one and that was what counted in the end. Slowly, oh so slowly Madara lowered himself. His whole body flushed itself inch by inch to her softer curves, his muscular legs to Rahel’s thighs, his abs to her stomach, his chest to her breasts.

 

“I got you,” he murmured, his tantalizing lips only millimeters apart from hers. Then, like an overgrown cat, starved from any affection, the man nuzzled the side of her neck. Electrified, Rahel arched into his body, moaning as he reacted just as enthusiastic. Teeth at her pulse point, a tongue swirling over her straining neck muscles, lips nipping at the sensitive skin. Rahel pressed her eyes shut. Her hands clawed into the expensive shirt, feeling the ripped flanks underneath. Dangerous and yet so incredibly sinful. The by now familiar arousal pooled between her legs, warming the woman up and making her more courageous than ever before. This spar was their mating ritual, natural in his own right. Both of them felt the heat of the moment, both of them breathed in short, harsh pants, driven by their shared desire. Rahel could read this out of his body language, the overall tension residing in his muscles, the eager big hand gripping into her roughed-up mane and the bulge pressing into her inner thigh, rubbing up and down with the frantic movements of Madara’s form. His lips were edging lower, to her exposed collarbone. One kiss, _a kiss_ , another kiss and a bite and Rahel couldn’t suppress the single name rippling in her lungs any longer.

“Madara…” she moaned lowly.

Wrong. The moment his name left her mouth, he froze. His teeth were still nipping at her skin, but they laid just passively there, not moving, not doing anything.

Madara growled, hissed nearly, then abruptly loosened the embrace. With wide eyes, feeling colder with every passing second, Rahel watched the harsh movements, the absent-minded wiping over his lips with his forearm, the angry wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“This…” he gestured warily around and not even that could hide the flare in them, “will not happen again. It never happened. To be bewitched by a kid… I refuse!”

Arrows, shot straight at her heart. Rahel bit her lower lip, already knowing the tears were coming. She felt them burning in her eyes, felt the telltale hoarse feeling in the back of her throat, the tightness and the pressure on her lungs.

He didn’t want her. Under all circumstances, even after all what they shared. Madara would never see her that way. Not like Rahel saw him.

 

All the light hope gathered in her chest burst into hopelessness. The small candle, burning dimly and cutting through the night, was blown out, leaving the woman cold and without any guidance. The first tear fell, quickly followed by a second and third.

Madara left without looking back. Rahel knew, heard his faint steps and the continued growls, heard the door opening and shutting close, heard her own weak sobs and whimpers, betraying her and her affectionate feeling she harbored for her superior. For Madara, for the boy who tried to flee from his own parents, tried to change the world by fighting the battles no one else wanted to fight. Who wanted to protect his friend from being roughed up in the military, who thought about his subordinates even though he obviously pretended not to care about them.

For the private Madara, who saw her potential to be a good paramedic, who wanted to help her improve, who gave her a chance even though the man first thought she would fail.

_It’s unfair. It’s just… so unfair._

Soon Rahel was helplessly crying, her arms wrapped around herself and rocking her body for- and backwards. Her cries echoed in the wide room, reflecting them, hollow and broken. Everything was over. Their daily private meetings, their shared secrets, their friendly talks…

Never would she see his special, small smile again, without the cockiness Madara harbored for everyone else. Both corners of his mouth would be clearly tugged upwards, his nose would curl a little bit and the constant wrinkles at his forehead would smooth for once. It was only hers, Rahel dimly thought, her smile and her moment. But that was gone too, gone like the man she lost her heart to.

A child. She laughed brokenly, the small chuckle drowning in a sob. A child in his eyes, an adult in front of everyone else. A worthy partner for the society, unworthy, weak and dumb for him. A little project to be worked on in his free time, between important meetings, important talks and other important training session with whole classes.

 

In the end, the blonde had no idea how the hell she managed to walk back to the dorm room. Not bothering to turn the lights on, she stumbled through the hallways, tears clouding her vision and the dark hopelessness dampening every other conscious thought.

Hiccupping, she tried to open the dorm-door with her keys. Her fingers wouldn’t work the way she wanted to. They shook, trembled and when Rahel’s vision blurred again due to a new wave of tears crashing into her, the woman gave up. With a little sob, she just folded her body and sat down on the ground, burying her face in her folded arms.

Rahel would’ve spent the night on the cold floor of the hallway, if not for Mito. When the redhead suddenly appeared in front the small woman, in her hands holding a bucket of ice-cream and two spoons like she knew what brewed on the horizon of this day, the blonde looked up to her friend and sniveled loudly.

Mito’s little smile sparkled slightly in the darkness. “Come on.” She offered her hand to Rahel. “We will find a calm place to rant and talk, hm?”

 

Only slowly Mito managed to coax the whole story out of Rahel. Her instant attraction to the grumpy second-in-command, the teasing and picking on the blonde, the private training in the evening and Rahel’s growing feelings for Madara. And naturally, after the redhead persuaded her with more spoons of cold and soothing ice-cream, Rahel also hesitantly told about this evening, about Madara’s general bad mood, the spar and the nearly make-out-session, followed by the nearly-insults spat at the small woman.

“A child,” she whispered in the end, nibbling at another spoon, “he called me a child. He will never see me in a remotely sexual or romantic way, because in his eyes I’m only a child with nothing but delusional hopes for the future.”

Mito kept silent. They sat down in a long-forgotten corner of the base, side by side and the tub with ice-cream peacefully nestled in between them. The moon shone through a small window above their heads on the floor, painting together with the dim light mysterious patterns on the ground. She spun her own spoon around her fingers, round and round, the silver of the tableware glittering in the darkness, while Rahel took another icy bite from the cold treat.

“I wonder about that,” Mito said after a while. Like an afterthought, nearly forgotten in the widths of her own mind.

“Huh?” Rahel looked up from her feet. “What did you say?”

Mito stretched her limbs. The redhead reminded Rahel of an overgrown cat, relishing in the softness of the cushions and her ability to see clearer than her. “I said,” she smiled, “I’m wondering about that.”

Further questionings proved to be useless. No matter how many times Rahel tried to press her friend to tell her what those mysterious words exactly meant, Mito would only widen her smile and shove the ice-cream tub closer to the blonde, claiming that the ice was about to melt away if she didn’t hurry up.

 

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The next evening came and went by. Rahel stayed in the dorm room, her blanket carefully draped over her body and on her pillow a fantasy novel she wanted to read now for a long time, but never came around it because of her daily private lessons. But instead of intently reading and getting captured by the carefully woven world, her eyes kept sliding over to the door. The play went on until the light was switched off and Rahel curled, without her book, her body up, still in the training clothes she clothed herself in after today’s lessons ended.

No one came to get her. No angry knock, no shout, no storm coming in and dragging her out.

No Madara, hissing like a kicked cat and punishing Rahel for her slacking off. Hours passed by, slow like snails and fast like the wind. Between small naps, Rahel stared at the ceiling of her bunk bed, listening to the soft snores of six other people and asking herself if Madara really wouldn’t show up, if he _really_ abandoned her and their lessons.

He really did. Threw her away, unwanted and ignored, like some broken toy he wasn’t interested in any longer. The next day came. Because of her sleepless night, Rahel felt literally like a zombie. Only a huge canteen of coffee on which she occasionally slurped throughout the day kept her walking, until the most dreaded part of the day came. The combat-training with Madara. But when the paramedic-class entered the training hall, a young, stern man with white hair waited for them, together with the soldier recruits.

“You’re late,” he snapped at the exhausted group, just coming out of an intense lesson how to revive a soldier on the battlefield, “as punishment, ten laps around the training field. Begin!”

Needless to say, none of the paramedic-recruits took a liking to Tobirama.

While running her laps and mechanically going through the exercises, Rahel pondered over the lacking of Madara’s presence. Did he really not only abandon her person, but also the hand-to-hand combat training completely? Was Madara that disgusted with their shared moment of intimacy and raw heat that he couldn’t handle being in the same room as the small woman?

 

The whole time, the female had been depressed. Her soul was colored in a deep, melancholic blue, her eyes only saw resemblances to Madara’s features in everything Rahel set her sights on and her feet seemed to constantly drag over the ground. But with the realization Madara just threw simply _everything_ inconvenient for him and his person away, her severe melancholy turned into bright anger. Not like a switch, easy to turn on and off. First, it was only a small spark but fed by the dawning of reality on her mind, the anger grew into a true wildfire, relentless and wild. Rahel gritted her teeth around the sudden urge to scream and cursed herself for the stupid anger tears dwelling in her eyes. No matter what this stupid idiot did, he managed to make Rahel cry.

Agitated, she wiped with the edges of her long-sleeved shirt over her eyes. No, she wouldn’t cry any longer over this idiot. Sure, the wound Madara’s careless words slashed into her self-confidence was still there, still swelling and still hurting, but her defiant nature kicked in, suppressed after all those months in the military and in his presence.

A grim smile flashed over Rahel’s face. Right. She wasn’t weak anymore. Insecure, yes, maybe. But not weak.

Thanks to the grumpy idiot.

Absentmindedly, the blonde went through a technique Madara showed her weeks ago. Her body remembered the technique even though her mind was elsewhere, fulfilling the required muscle movements and coordination of her limbs without thinking. What she didn’t notice were the surprised, shocked and also interested looks from the other recruits she received while doing so. Especially Tobirama mustered the blonde woman with the expression of someone who just discovered a rough diamond in the dirt of a trash yard.

 

But the stoic man caught himself before one of his students could see how impressed he was by the nearly flawless performance. Still, the rest of the lesson he watched over the woman like a hawk, his red eyes following her every motion and every training spar. And even though she lost against Mito, he didn’t think it was due to a lack of skill or training. No, more like…

“You held back.”

Rahel had tried to put her stubborn hair into a proper ponytail, before the disliked replacement-teacher directed his intimidating calm voice at her. Confused, her hands stilled mid-air, her fingers brushing slightly over the roots of her strands, she stared at Tobirama, who didn’t look that happy with her. Annoyed he clicked his tongue and continued, in the same, self-confident tone only people had who were usually more intelligent than every other human in every room. “You held back in your fight. And no matter how many scenarios I play through, I can’t understand what causes you to do so.”

“Excuse me, Sir?” Rahel asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tobirama crossed his arms over his chest. Rahel couldn’t help but to notice he was a little bit smaller than Madara, even though both men emitted the same authority-demanding aura and the absolute unwillingness to bother with bullshit. “You held back,” he said, like the blonde was a total idiot, “and I don’t have the time nor the mindset to willingly waste my time. Either you give your best from now on or I will find a way to make you regret ever considering enter the military.”

_Woah. Definitely not a cuddly one._

“Understood, Sir.” Rahel saluted, the tips of her fingers touching slightly her temple. “Give my best. I can do that.”

“Mhm.” The angry, red eyes squinted and mustered her, trying to find out if she was serious or not. Apparently Tobirama was satisfied with what he saw. With a tiny nod he walked away, the back stiff like an iron staff was shoved into his spine. Rahel stared wide-eyed at the instructor, not really knowing what exactly happened. Hell, she had been only deeply in thought about how she could show Madara what he would miss when he continued to act like a child.

_Mhmm… Showing off isn’t that much of a bad idea…_

 

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For the next week, Rahel worked her ass off. Together with the other paramedic-recruits she visited every single course, but instead of being the silent and shy female she was on the inside, the small woman was starting to show her true colors. Before she would let others take the spotlight, for example not deciding to answer a question of their teachers, Rahel now raised her hand as one of the first. Her words weren’t jumbled or hushed any longer, she spoke clear and loudly, not holding back the slightest bit. Alongside the other recruits, her teachers were more than pleasantly surprised to see such a participating side of her.

But her time to shine brightest became the daily lessons of combat-training. Since Tobirama took over the lessons from Madara, Rahel could freely train with the other recruits. And she took great pleasure in that. Every hour, another soldier would be her sparring partner and every hour would end with the same result: the other party was on the ground, panting and cursing his luck, because there was no way a small woman, who was on top of that a paramedic would beat one of the proud fighters!

But it was no luck. Rahel proved that with every training session, with every defeated soldier and every good-willed “Thank you for the match”. And with every passing day the soldiers became more interested in the blonde.

On a Friday, exactly one week and a half after the disastrous private training with Madara, Rahel waited together with Mito in front of the training hall, a small bag with a water bottle and some clean clothes hanging over her shoulder. While they talked about their last lesson, the soldier recruits arrived, one with more muscles and less brain than the other. One of them, a quite attractive brunet, his brownish-green shirt stretched over his wide chest and was apparently chosen a number too small to showcase the growing muscles further.

“Heh, Murphy!” he hollered, “If you have the guts to take me on and win on top of that, I’m gonna invite you to a coffee!”

 

Rahel rolled her eyes. Seriously? When she was successful in taking them down, the manly soldiers decided to gift her with their attention? Even when she wasn’t hellbent on annoying the living hell out of a gloomy and broody captain, the blonde wasn’t that desperate to take their invitations to a coffee or a lunch. Those soldiers wanted to blow off some steam, therefore searched their prey in the majority of the paramedic class, where a lot of females were located. The different secretaries running around and also the cooks in the cafeteria weren’t safe from testosterone-loaded flirting of the brazen youngsters.

Her personal pain in the neck stood now right in front of her. “And?” A triumphant grin crossed his features. “What do you say?”

Rahel tried to remember his name. Thankfully the male wore his nametag, at least she was spared from that particular embarrassment. “Thompson, I appreciate your invitation to a training spar, but anything further than that is beyond what I want to deal with.”

The confident grin didn’t waver one bit. “Am I too much to handle for you?”

“No. Too much of something I don’t want.”

Suppressed giggles resounded through the reigns of both classes. But despite his defeat, Thompson was still as chipper as ever. “But you will still give me the right to spar with you, right?” he asked and wiggled his eyebrows.

Rahel sighed but nodded. Thompson was a good fighter, quick on his feet and strong like his figure suggested. Still, the blonde was sure she was able to defeat him, despite the many factors working against her.

Steps echoed in the hallway, harsh and indicating Tobirama’s appearance. But when Rahel turned around, not only the emotionless man made his way over. Blood rushed in her ears as her eyes spotted the familiar black mane of spiky hair, the well-known strong figure and the same grumpy expression he wore all day. Madara, in person.

 

In reality, it was the holy trinity of the Konoha outpost. Tobirama, Madara and Hashirama. The commander, his brother and the second-in-command. All girls in their close proximity held their breaths and ogled at their backsides as soon as the men left them in their wake, giggling to themselves and whispering among each other. Bitter jealousy rose in Rahel’s stomach but she fought the troublesome feeling down as much as she could. She had no right, no exclusive hold on the dark man. He made that more than clear. Even when some part of Madara was apparently attracted to the small woman, his mind wasn’t one to be swayed.

His dark eyes floated over the classes and when he reached Rahel, she thought they widened slightly. A strange light reflection, totally. Madara glanced shortly over her, flickering around until they saw how Thompson leaned down and whispered some calculated words into her ear.

“We can talk about the possibility of coffee later.”

Madara’s mouth turned into a snarl the moment Thompson straightened again and his whole face was screaming bloody murder. Rahel watched with shock how the cold man balled his hands into tight fists, the skin over his knuckles turning white under the force. But the change vanished as fast as it had come over him. With a short shake of his head, Madara turned away, though Rahel could see the visible tension in his shoulders when he stomped past Tobirama and into the training hall.

The recruits exchanged knowing glances. Obviously, someone pissed the captain off. And Rahel had the bad feeling it was her presence which did the trick as she watched Madara through the thick glass, how he selected a corner and leaned there against the wall, his jaw tightening to the point the woman feared for his teeth.

Maybe it didn’t vanish.

 

The bad feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t lessen when Rahel entered together with the other young, hopeful recruits the training hall. Dropping her small bag at the edge of the mattress, she threw another glance at Madara. To her surprise their eyes met. In the short moment, Rahel saw _something_ in his face, saw _something_ strange and yet hopefully present, warm and so untypical for the cold man that her mouth curled automatically into a little smile. What happened then made the smile only widen.

Red creeped over Madara’s cheeks and obviously flustered he tried to hide himself behind some strands of his wild hair. He failed spectacularly, what made him snarl at his rebelling hair.

Alone that made Rahel’s heart pound louder. However, when Madara tried to hide his eyes behind a gloved hand and the blush was still clearly visible, peeking through the tiny breaks between his fingers, her heartbeat paused, only to jump straight into her throat, together with the damn hope again warming her heart and feelings for him. Did he fake it all? Did he feel something for her? Was there a little bit of hope for Rahel and her damned feelings for the cold, stubborn Uchiha?

Butterflies fluttered through her stomach as the blonde lined up for the spars. Rahel wanted to walk over to Madara, wanted to softly whisper to him, to ask gently if he wanted to say anything to her. The woman wanted to take his gloved hand covering his eyes, revealing them to the light and entangle their fingers properly, wanted to feel the nervous shiver running through him and the embarrassed snarl to go back to her old position.

She wanted to ask him what his words a week ago meant. She wanted to ask Madara what he meant with telling her she was a child, what he wanted to achieve by doing so. And then she wanted to kiss him, to make him realize what she felt, what she had wanted for a long time now.

 

“…phy! Cadet Murphy!”

Startled Rahel swiveled around. Tobirama sternly looked at her, the arms crossed and nodding at Recruit Thompson, who stood with bare feet, long camouflage pants and his dark-green shirt in the middle of the circle, grinning triumphantly. “If you are so kind to awake from your daydream, would you start the training spar with Cadet Thompson? Or do you have a problem with that?”

His tone indicated it would be a bad idea even considering a wise remark. So Rahel swallowed down her witty answer and stepped forward. “Yes, Sir. I apologize.”

“Hn.” The white-haired man only grunted.

_Okay. Concentrate. Thompson may be a little entitled to his physique, but he’s nevertheless an opponent. I need to be serious._

Carefully Rahel stepped right into Thompson’s line of sight and put her guard up. Her feet slid over the soft, rubbery underground, balancing her weight to the optimum. If he decided to attack, the woman would be able to dodge into every direction, no matter from where the hit would come from.

Now their instructor only needed to give the signal to start. Rahel’s muscles tensed when Tobirama raised his hand. Just a few more moments. Just a second-!

The hand fell down. Instantly, Thompson sprinted forward like a bull. In his face was the fierce determination to surpass the woman. Though Rahel was too quick. She rolled out of the way, always keeping her eyes on her enemy. The brunet came to a halt, shaking his head at her reaction.

“Dodging, huh?”

Rahel cocked her head. “Charging straight forward, huh?”

He laughed shortly. Meanwhile, the man tried to sneakily come closer, but Rahel noticed. Every step he set into her direction, she took backwards, always maintaining the same distance between them. Her mind worked, tried to find an opening, a tiny little chance to attack. There was no way the small woman would be able to directly defeat a 1.90meter man with enough muscles to shame a bodybuilder.

 

Rahel’s fast mind was her best chance. That and her quick feet.

Thompson suddenly jumped at her. She dodged again, but his hand found her shirt and threw her off balance. Rahel stumbled. The ground was coming closer, so did the male. She tried to put her guard up, though his fists were too fast. The first punch hit her straight to the temple. Pain bloomed behind her forehead. A little grunt escaped the blonde, but then Thompson came after her, merciless like a true enemy on the battlefield. The second fist found her chin before Rahel was able to defend herself. Disorientated, the woman dodged the third hit, stumbling more than elegantly turning out of the way.

More pain. More confusion. The world swayed from left to right, right to left and when the blonde blinked hectically, the contours of the people around her blurred into a true mess. Desperately Rahel shook her head, staggering on her feet. This couldn’t take her down! Not something like this! One last shake of her head and the curtains lifted.

Madara’s words drifted through her mind as Rahel stared blankly at Thompson, who already celebrated his victory with more hollers and whistles. One of his many, many remarks and wise sayings. _Sometimes, you have to feint being weak to create an opening. Something you won’t have any problem with. Risky, yes. But if you take the risk, embrace it, then you can make it work._

Back then, the blonde had felt slightly insulted. Now, the words echoed in her head. Feinting to be weak. Yes. She could do that.

One more stagger into Thompson’s direction. Rahel tried to look weak. Her shoulders dropped low and her feet dragged loudly over the ground. Moaning lowly, she rose her hand to the puckering spot where his fist connected with her temple, pressing gingerly against it. Another whimper fell from her lips and the woman had no problem to summon some tears to burn in her eyes. “Hurts…” she mumbled. Meanwhile, she stumbled even closer. Only one more meter, a short distance.

 

Thompson’s confident expression wavered the tiniest bit. Insecure, he glanced at Tobirama, but the man only followed the match, unmoved by the problems they faced. “Sir…?”

“What?” Tobirama asked.

Thompson gestured warily towards Rahel. The woman had taken the opportunity to shield her face from her opponent, all the while her own smile was covered by the balms of her palm. “Is she really okay…? I mean, is it okay to continue?”

“As long as she hasn’t given up…” The instructor shrugged. “The fight is still on.”

“But she’s clearly-!”

Thompson looked away. A grave mistake in any real fight. Rahel used the small opening in his stance. Her strong legs were pumping as she charged at the massive wall of a man, her arms closely drawn to her chest. He just had enough time to stare with wide eyes at her, before Rahel tackled him to the ground. A hit to his jaw, pain erupting in her fingers. Even though the male grunted, he kept on resisting. Rahel gritted her teeth and fought harder. Again she flung her small body at him, never giving up and never giving in. They tumbled over the mattress, until the blonde slid forward and hooked her foot behind one of Thompson’s legs, and pulled it back just as she pressed a heavy hand onto his shoulder on the same side. The bigger man stumbled, tried to find his balance again, but it was inevitable. Slowly, like a chopped tree, he fell.

Her mouth tugged into a soundless snarl, Rahel fought for her dominance. They rolled around, their legs entangled and arms trying to find the right grip for a lockdown. Foreign breath crashed into her face, foreign hands and arms crawled over her own arms. This had to end. Thompson had a better condition than her, in a battle of endurance the taller man would win.

Determined to the very end, Rahel rolled them a last time around. Finally, their entangled bodies came to a halt, the woman sitting on Thompson’s back and his face pressed into the soft underground. She slung her legs around him, making sure her lower body was flushed to his smaller back. This way any further movement was restricted. Ripping his right arm backwards and upwards, the blonde made sure there was just enough strength in her grip to make the lockdown hurt, before she looked through her mussed-up hair at her instructor. “Until he gives up?”

 

“Until he gives up.” Tobirama said with a deadly, small smile.

She gave a just as tiny smile back, before ripping a little bit stronger at the trapped arm. “Did you hear that?” she asked, “Don’t drag this out longer than necessary. You can’t escape.”

Thompson snorted. “A light weight like you, holding me down?” Suddenly he bucked his body like a wild horse. But instead of being thrown off, Rahel tightened her grip of her legs and arm. The man groaned and stilled, aware she would only bring more pain over him.

Inwardly Rahel was praying. The lockdown was anything far from perfect. Actually, there were a lot of possibilities to escape. For once, Thompson could just ignore the pain and his trapped arm and throw her off. That would be pretty embarrassing, considering the one who taught her this move was standing in the far away corner and watched…

Rahel knew she won when the body underneath her stilled completely, before slumping into absolute submission. “Fine,” Thompson grunted into the mattress, “You won. I give up. Now get this crazy woman off of me!”

Sweaty and exhausted, but also floating on a little high, Rahel carefully released the other recruit and hopped off of his back. There was nothing but a won fight to make her feel better, especially while Madara watched her. After a quick glance into his direction, she also knew he had gifted her all of his attention, not breaking eye contact when they looked at each other.

A comfortable shower rained down her back. He watched her fight, watched how she won with his techniques, how she came out victorious, without any help or assistance. This was her moment.

Feeling cheeky, Rahel winked at Madara. He could’ve turned into stone from her point of view, that frozen and paralyzed the male appeared. She could’ve sworn his jaw dropped, taken back by her unusual open attitude, but then Thompson, who moved upwards, dropped his muscular arm over her shoulder.

“So… And now we’re talking about the coffee I owe you.”

Measured at his joking tone, the soldier already got her rejection, loud and clear. Therefore, Rahel broke into a laughter, still on a high and still overjoyed she managed to take the victory under Madara’s eyes.

 

She ignored the sudden silence laying over the other recruits. She also ignored the stomps of heavy boots on the ground. But Rahel wasn’t able to ignore the hand which plucked Thompson’s arm off of her body nor the tight, nearly hurting grip around her wrist or the obviously fuming man who dragged her without a word out of the group.

“M-Madara? Where are we going?” Rahel tried to loosen the painful grip around her arm but he only tightened his fingers further, so she gave up and tried to stay upright while she stumbled on bare feet behind him. What wasn’t that easy, his tempo was above everything the man ever showed.

The last thing the blonde saw before Madara kicked the doors leading into the hallway open were the confused, surprised and startled expressions of her classmates. Only Tobirama seemed to know what was going on, though was too unconcerned or uninterested to save the woman from the clutches of the second-in-command. One last look at Mito, who smirked out of unknown reasons, then the doors behind Rahel closed.

Madara’s back radiated his fury. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help herself but to admire the straight lines of the muscles contracting underneath his usual tight t-shirt. If he just would give in and allow Rahel to get closer to him, she would have the chance to touch them without the violence of a training spar between them…

She was still dreaming about more than innocent touches when Madara reached his goal. Only the snap of a door lock let the blonde wake up from her daydream. And she recognized the entrance, knew where it would lead. A telltale shiver run down over her spine.

Madara’s private bureau.

She had been here before, for short moments only. A quick pick-up of files to work on while they held their training sessions, one time Madara ordered her to print out something from his PC and bring it to him. Even back then, in those short, but precious moments, Rahel saw the beauty in the clear lines and simplicity of the bureau. There was nothing unnecessary in there.

 

A bookshelf on the right wall, filled with either books or dusty medals. On the right pictures of a younger Madara, freshly graduated from the six-month trial and in his uniform, a younger and just as chipper Hashirama as always by his side. Just a few steps away, right in front of the door was the desk, a wide and mighty table, overloaded with papers, pens and a computer humming silently in one corner.

Finally, Madara let go of her wrist. Air rushed in, cooled the strained skin. As soon as Rahel checked that everything was alright and nothing hurt, she started to hiss at the man she loved with her stupid heart. “Will you explain to me what the hell that was?”

Instead of an answer, the blonde only received a miffed glare and an annoyed click of his tongue. Madara even had the pure audacity to walk up to his table and start ordering some files, his shoulders drawn upwards and hands trembling. She could see that much even from her point of view.

_Trying to act like it doesn’t concern you? Really?_

Rahel growled. He wanted to act like nothing happened? Like he didn’t drag her out of her lesson, still sweaty and still hot from her fight? Fine. “You know, I don’t get you at all,” she started and watched with grim satisfaction how the man stilled, “One day, you spit into my face that I’m a child, the next you act like one whose favorite toy was stolen from him.”

No reaction.

“One day, you are willing to train me, to support me in getting better, the next you drop me like I somehow disappointed you.”

Still, no reaction.

Rahel stepped closer, her arms crossed over her chest and some strands of her blonde hair hanging into her eyes. “One day,” Madara glanced over his shoulder at the female, “one day you nearly ravage me. The next, you vanish into oblivion. And you know what hurt me the most?”

His black eyes clearly asked the question which burned on his tongue, but he was too stubborn to actually utter those words loudly. Rahel leaned in, just one more step parting them and breathed her exclamation more than anything. “That you left me alone, in that exact moment. Hungry for something only you can give me, turned on by your actions and desperate for your touch and your touch alone. If you-!”

 

Rahel would’ve continued to run her mouth. But faster than she could blink, Madara turned around and forcefully grabbed both sides of her face. Only this time, his fingers weren’t painfully cramped around her jaw and upper neck. His face was closing in, the black eyes fixed on something on her face and only when his lips crashed into hers, Rahel knew at what exactly the man had been staring.

 _Finally_. That was her only thought while his lips moved against hers, just as forceful and unrefined as Madara himself. He forced Rahel into submission, fought her like they were still in the training hall, sparring and battling each other. But this time, she submitted easily. This time, she melted under Madara’s attention. This time, Rahel wouldn’t fight back at all, just letting the man ravage her to the point of no return, not caring about the consequences.

His tongue prodded against her mouth, slithered between them when Rahel opened herself. Another fight, another submission and she moaned helplessly when Madara overpowered her. _Finally_. After all this useless fretting, the hopeless crushing and the unbearable pain of knowing she had a one-sided love for someone who was out of her reach, her feelings weren’t one-sided anymore.

Her hands eagerly travelled over his chiseled torso. He shivered under her touch, but the kiss didn’t stop, grew even more urgent and powerful. Rahel was pushed backwards. But she stood her ground and kissed back, her tongue moving against his and whimpering when Madara’s big hands dragged her even closer. Body flushed against body, entwined and yet still parted by unnervingly persistent clothing.

He liked to control the situation but was too shy or maybe too inhibited by his own desires to act on them. So, the blonde had to take every first step, to push Madara to the point of no return and further.

 

Her teeth found his bottom lip, first only gracing the sensitive flesh before suddenly biting down. Not too hard, just enough to let the male feel some pain. Madara jerked backwards, though his hands stayed right where they seemed to belong, dipping possessively into her waist.

“This has to go,” Rahel breathed and smiled when his eyebrows vanished in his hair, “all this… _clothing_.”

“No.” His first word since eternities. Black eyes burned in a fiery red, hard and yet soft at the same time. Madara kissed her again, all tongue and teeth and _lips_ , only to growl into her ear when he retreated. “Your clothing. Off. _Now_.”

Little flashes of raw electricity set her nerves on fire. Another meek moan escaped Rahel, while her hands flew automatically to the rim of her shirt, stripping it off before the woman even realized why she was doing it.

Oh god. She had a thing for a dominant Madara. A blush crossed her features, red and bright and totally betraying her true emotions. He smirked when he realized why Rahel fumbled with the edges of her shirt and leaned again in, nuzzling the side of her neck like his mouth belonged exactly right there. “Oh?” he purred and alone the sound vibrating on her skin send Rahel’s mind in a wild spiral of arousal, “You like when I command you around? Well, my little medic, then I will handle you with more delicacy.”

His fingers had slipped down, over her still covered breasts to her sensitive stomach and in the end between her skintight and light pants. They found their target immediately, rubbing Rahel’s clit straight through the fabric in little teasing circles. Warmth coiled in her lower stomach as she arched into his hand, seeking more friction and more of Madara but he withdrew suddenly, leaving the blonde cold and alone.

“Strip your shirt, pants and underwear off,” he growled before Rahel could beg him to continue, “remove your ponytail and bend over my desk.”

 

He would take - _fuck-_ her from behind. Alone the thought of her body, naked and defenseless, laying across the hard wood and the crinkling papers, wiggling slightly when Madara stepped behind her and let his gloved hands run over her flanks, only to grab her hips and push his hard and aching cock into her inviting heat…

Her panties were soaked through as Rahel stripped them eagerly off. Together with her other clothing, it landed in a neat pile on the floor, forgotten soon by both of them. The last thing she did was deliberately slow loosen the tight bound on her already half-opened ponytail. Her blonde strands fell around Rahel’s face and the appreciating glance in Madara’s eyes as he watched how she ruffled shortly through her mane was more than worth it. At least, if she counted the almost invisible bulge in his loose pants in.

Totally naked, Rahel stood before the man she loved. Months of training shaped her figure, still there were some pads of fat around her hips and belly she couldn’t get rid of. Again, languish in her gestures, she turned around, giving Madara a little preview of what would be his in a few minutes. Acting cocky was easier than facing her shame and embarrassment head on, after all.

“Rahel.”

She froze on the spot. In her behind, she heard the soft steps, then a hand slid around her waist. Gently Madara’s fingers drew lines over her stomach, trailed burning patterns and shapes into her soft skin. “Be proud,” he hoarsely whispered. His lips found her shoulder, kissing the curve up to her neck. Single strands of black hair spilled over Rahel’s shoulder, mixing with her blonde ones. “Be proud of what you’ve become.”

If she wouldn’t be already in love with the captain, the woman would’ve submitted to his charm right here, right now. Seeing she was nervous and insecure, jumping over his shadow of not mentioning anything personal to encourage her while she was standing completely bare in front of him…

 

Madara’s ministrations only fueled Rahel’s lust for him. Arching into his chest, the woman pressed her butt into his surely aching erection. The soft hiss was music to her ears. Just for good measure, she rolled her hips again into the big bulge and relished in the feeling of the relentless man tensing noticeably up.

“Bend over.” His hands nestled with the belt and zipper of his pants. Knuckles brushed over the soft curves of Rahel’s butt as she leaned over the desk. Papers crinkled when her breasts pressed against them, her stiff nipples rubbing sensually against the differing underground. Another stimulation, another reason for the warmth in her lower stomach to grow. Lava in her veins, lightning running over her skin, wetness between her legs.

“Yes. Like this.” Madara’s voice echoed through the room, just as much as the telltale crinkling of plastic in his hands. “Don’t move.”

Rahel’s ears were her only companion. She listened for every small breathing the man let out, the ruffles of his clothing as he pulled them open, just enough to release his dick, again the crinkle of plastic as he ripped the condom open and placed it in its rightful place. His breath hitched, captured in the moment and then his hands were back. Somewhere in between, Madara pulled off the gloves and like this, warm skin and not warmed-up leather caressed Rahel’s sensitive skin.

A chuckle met her ears when a little moan fell from her lips, lost in the papers underneath the blonde. “You look so good like this. Bending over, naked…” Hot and heavy his dick was lying between the cheeks of her butt. “Beautiful.” The friction when he rocked his hips forth and backward was enough to make Rahel whimper helplessly. He didn’t even do anything! Nothing but a bit of movement, not even remotely close to a true sensitive spot!

A bite into her shoulder made Rahel flinch back into the present. His teeth stayed for a moment at the junction, nipping and marking her as his, before his voice again drew out a far too illustrative picture for her. “I’m going to fuck you right here on my desk. Deep and hard, until you come all over me, your legs twitching and voice breaking from the chants of my name. I will be everything in your mind, the only man to think of. And when we both have come, I will lick you until you’ve come again, so overridden by the stimulation you’ll cry.”

 

“Please,” her voice was clearly pleading but for once Rahel couldn’t care less how she sounded, “do it. Madara, I want you, please, I’m ready for you, I want you to _fuck_ -!”

His dick was buried faster inside Rahel as she could finish her sentence. Her last word was drowned in a gasped scream, her hands clawing desperately into important files and ruining them. She cried again out, overwhelmed by the fullness, the feeling of something filling her up and threw her head back.

Madara joined her cries with a groan, enraptured by her tightness. “Yes,” he hissed while one of his hands slid between her legs, starting to rub her clit in slow, notorious circles, “just like this. Rahel, scream for me.”

“Madara, please!” Tears pricked in the canthus of her eyes. Slightly wiggling her behind, Rahel pressed back into his pelvis, enjoying the hiss of absolute pleasure which erupted. “Fuck me like you promised. Just… _fuck me_.”

An evil glint sparked up in his eyes when he heard her pleads. One more moment of anxious waiting, one more moment of breathless, wanton moaning, then-!

Rahel couldn’t think anymore. Her mind became woozy, confused and enraptured by the friction of a big cock wrenched in the tight space between her legs. In and out, fast-paced, unforgivingly Madara fucked her against his desk, his hips slapping against her butt with every stroke and push. The lewd sound of pants and squishy body fluids floated through the air, his fingers coated in her juices while the male continued to pleasure Rahel. The man behind her was everything what counted, everything what really mattered. More lava burned brightly in her lower stomach, but it was not enough. Yet.

She clenched her inner muscles full of eager mischief around him. Hearing the unmovable Madara curse under his breath was worth the close-to-pain sensation of his other hand gripping too strongly into her hips.

“Little beast,” he hissed, “like to tease me. Mock me, rile me up. Whole week I thought of you, how you moan under me; moan my name oh so sweetly…”

 

Like an answer, Rahel moaned out when he hit a special spot deep inside of her. Sparks appeared before her eyes, short-lived and bright like fireworks. In the back of her mind the blonde was aware her frantic motion over the desk let some papers flutter to the ground but currently, she couldn’t care less.

His hips slammed into hers, his length caressed inches deep inside of her Rahel didn’t know which existed. She tried to spread her legs more, to allow the man to sink even deeper, otherwise the blonde couldn’t do anything else but to hold onto the desk, her fingers desperately clawing into the edges of the wood.

Madara grunted lowly. “Can’t-! _So fuckin-!”_ His long hair tickled Rahel’s bare back. A hand wandered higher, pinning her down, a palm on her shoulder blade, pressing her face into the papers. Another grunt and he speed his already fast pace up. Rahel keened, her breath hitching in her throat as she was pushed with more force into the desk. She was already this close, this close from cumming and still so far away that her despair grew with every stroke of the hot cock alongside her inner walls. More sweat poured over her face and form, Madara’s breathless grunts echoing in her ears and every slap of skin against skin made her breath hitch. The slight pain of being roughly handled by her instructor made the heat swirling through her lower body even hotter. Though when Madara’s nimble fingers pinched full of mischief her oversensitive clit, only to rub it harshly in time with the strokes of his dick, Rahel screamed actually out, bucking against the relentless grip on her shoulder.

“Please,” she pleaded and tightened the muscles around him, “please, just let me come now, please, I can’t take it any longer, I want to come, I want to come, let me come _Madara_ , let me, just-!”

“Hush.” Rahel cried out when she felt the finger again pressing evilly down on her clit, “you will get what you desire. Patience, my little medic.” Swept away by his promise, she nodded eagerly and arched into his hand. The peak was so close, so near, just a little bit more, a tiny, little bit more-!

Stars exploded in her brain, true showers of silver sparkles mashing together in a warm wave. Bliss washed over Rahel as she screamed one last time out, her voice hoarse and broken from all her unconscious moans and whimpers. Muscles tightened around Madara, who hissed sharply and doubled over, his warm breath crashing into her sweat-stained spine. A few hasty motions of his hips, then he stilled and she felt how the condom was filled with warm seed.

 

Their gasps were for a long time the only thing which echoed in the small room. Then, Madara froze above her and for a short, panicked second the blonde thought he would again try to deny any feelings towards her. But when he deliberately pulled out of her, enjoying the unconscious clenching of her inner muscles around him and pressed all the while small kisses all over her shoulder blade, Rahel relaxed again.

This time, Madara wouldn’t hurt her. He would stay.

Though she wasn’t prepared for the man to flip her suddenly over. There he was, a warm and mighty presence filling the room. Rahel let her eyes wander lower and came to a halt at his still freely dangling cock, now slowly deflating after pleasuring her. Even in his soft state he was massive, she noted absentmindedly, laying in a neatly trimmed bed of black hair.

Following her eyes, Madara glanced down and tugged himself away. “To my second promise… Sit on the desk and spread your legs,” he breathed, his eyes glued to Rahel’s crotch.

Rahel bit her lower lip. Did she really want to be pleasured again, so close after an intense orgasm like she never experienced? But the tingle between her legs was already growing and before the woman realized what was going on, Madara hoisted her up. She squealed weakly and tried to find a handle in his shoulders, what forced a quiet chuckle from his lips.

“No reason to be scared,” he said. Still, when Rahel shyly edged closer, her lips slightly parted, he allowed the impending kiss to happen. Her mouth met his, not forceful like before. Instead the kiss told of her softer feelings for him, not wild lust and desire but love, affection and admiration for his self-confidence.

Sitting on his desk only felt slightly less naughty than being bent over the wooden table. Well, after the hot, sweaty sex they indulged in, Rahel assumed, it didn’t matter if she used the important, wrinkled and partly soiled documents now as an underground for even more debauchery.

 

His fingers found her clit again, slowly massaging the sensitive nub until she was forced to break the kiss, whining into his smirking mouth.

“Those sounds are the most enticing things I heard all week,” Madara murmured and forced a bright flush to Rahel’s face, “So needy, so desperate for my touch and my touch alone.”

“Stop. _Talking_ ,” the blonde growled. The earlier shyness vanished completely, showing in the lewd way of spreading her legs for the man, invitation and demand at the same time.

And Madara took the invitation willingly. His eyes were locked with hers as he kneeled down, amusement just as a new wave of lust sparkling in the bottomless black.

Nimble fingers parted her lower lips, revealing the rosy tone of her flesh and the dwelling wetness running out of the woman. Cold breath brushed over her most intimate parts and Rahel squirmed on the desk. “Why is it necessary to look so closely?” she asked and pushed her hips forward. “It’s embarrassing.”

Madara’s only answer was a knowing smirk.

_Fine. As long as he stands to his promise…_

Unbeknownst to the blonde, a relieved sigh escaped her when Madara finally leaned forward, his fingers holding her lower lips apart and his lips closing around the sensitive clit. First, there was not much happening. It was nice, warm and the careful licks made the female again sigh out. The tips of Madara’s fingers searched for her oozing entrance, dipping a little bit inside when he found it, spreading more of her wetness over his hands. Like the tide, his ministrations rose. The tongue teasing her clit became more insistent, circling, prodding, pushing. A sudden suction and Rahel screamed out. Her hands flew upwards and buried themselves into the thick mane of the male, who chuckled lowly at her reaction.

It was too much. He had already teased the nub to the point where even the slightest rush of air hurt, so the overstimulation of Madara soon became overbearing. Rahel bucked helplessly into his mouth, her fingers entangled with the black strands, her naked legs thrown over the wide shoulders and her heels digging into his back. Whimpers fell from her lips, high and needy, spurring Madara even further on to push her even faster over the delirious cliff.

 

The orgasm came unexpected even though Rahel did everything to make the peak come faster. Like a massive wave the blonde was washed away by the sheer force, less long but just as intense as the first. Hoarsely, she whimpered out. “ _Madara! Ma-Madara!”_

She could basically feel the smug smirk against her inner thigh.

The afterglow was the best. Rahel was only dimly aware of her surroundings. Her brain swam in the warm, soft, fluffy cloud of post-orgasmic bliss. The woman was so high on the feelings she didn’t even notice Madara untangling her stiff fingers from his mane and standing up. But the kiss to her lips woke her up, short and sweet.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, only an inch apart, “you’re mine, you hear me? Don’t you dare to allow this insolent fool to wrap his arm again around your shoulder. You deserve better.”

Something still irked Rahel. And to clear that up was more important than to cover herself up, so when she managed to bring her hands between their bodies to push Madara off, his hurt look only managed to make her raise an eyebrow. “And you’re not suddenly running away from me? Calling me a child and exclaiming not to be swayed by me?”

Seeing Madara flush was the third-best thing which happened today. Disgruntled he tried to get closer again but Rahel was unmovable. “Nothing to say?” she asked, the disbelief dripping from her words.

Madara’s jaw worked like he needed to gnaw on the answer as much as he could before he spat the confession into her face. His cheeks adorned by a bright blush. “It’s weak.”

“What?”

“To feel.”

“What exactly are you feeling?”

“Love.”

Rahel nearly broke into a victorious grin. “Love for whom?”

Madara grunted. “Like you don’t know that.”

 

“I want to hear it from you. Otherwise I could just stand up and ask Thompson for the coffee I rightfully won-!”

A growl was everything of a warning the blonde received. “Oh no, you don’t!” Then there were muscular arms wrapped around her naked waist, her breasts squashed to a wide chest and her face possessively pressed into the strong side of a neck, all the while Madara continued to growl like a disgruntled cat into her hair. “You won’t go back. You won’t go back there. From now on I will be the only one training you, not this fool Tobirama.”

Rahel kissed his pulse point. “And why do you want that?” she whispered, knowing where their conversation was heading.

For minutes they stood like this, in the middle of Madara’s bureau, the woman naked and still not feeling cold due to the bigger body wrapped around her figure, Madara with closed eyes and mumbling snippets of badly phrased confessions under his breath before he finally managed to scratch together all of his meek courage.

“Because I love you,” he hoarsely said. “And I pushed you away and called you a child because I didn’t want to admit I was feeling more bound to you than my duty as the second-in-command of this base. That was the reason why. I’m… _scared_ ,” his arms tightened around Rahel’s waist, “of my strong feelings for you.”

“Ssh.” Soothingly, the woman let her hand wander over his back, up and down along his slightly twitching muscles. “It’s alright. I… I love you too, my captain.”

He stilled. “Say that again.”

“My… captain?”

Madara chuckled darkly. Only seconds later Rahel realized why. A growing erection was rubbing up and down her inner thigh. “And now call me “Sir” while you ride me in my chair, Cadet Murphy.”

A laugh escaped the woman, before she leaned in for a long and dirty kiss. “As you wish, Sir.”

 

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“Should we…” Hashirama stared at the door to his best friend’s bureau like the devil itself was waiting behind it. “Should we… _knock_? I don’t know.”

Tobirama shrugged while his thumb swiped left and right over his smartphone. “Don’t know either. Whatever suits you better.”

“What would suit me better?”

“Is your curiosity what exactly Madara does to a cadet, whose absence made him grumpy and basically unbearable all week so strong to overcome the rotten eyes and ears you surely will get when you open that door?”

A muscle twitched in Hashirama’s face. Minutes went by and the commander still fidgeted on the spot, insecure how to proceed from there on, while Tobirama continued to look like the whole situation concerned him not in the slightest.

Then, just in the moment Hashirama wanted to touch the handle of the door, a low laugh could be heard from their position, followed by a higher, female giggle. Both laughing waves sounded blissfully happy and satisfied, totally at ease that a small smile stole its way on the commander’s face.

He retracted his hand. “Well… The meeting has time.”

Tobirama grunted. A few more swipes of his thumb, then he sighed deeply. His avatar in the game died a dishonorable death, driven over by a car while trying to cross the street. “Yeah.” Without another word, he started the level anew.

Thankfully Madara had grown some balls. Otherwise taking over the class on the desperate question of his older brother would’ve been a waste of Tobirama’s far too precious time.

Playing armor for someone he couldn’t even _stand_. The white-haired man snorted. _Ridiculous._

**Author's Note:**

> All the kudos to Chisie for proofreading! You're the best human being out there I know! :3


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